Queenie
by Kiki Silver
Summary: 16-year old Emma Frost is cold, beautiful and brilliant, and she doesn't need the X-Men to help her control her powers. Helping her to achieve power, however, is a different story...


_A/N: I got this idea into my head and it wouldn't go away. Have you seen the New X-Men? They made the White Queen very young and Asian-looking. I guess that's what gave me this idea: what if Emma Frost came to Bayville?^^_

  


**Prologue**

My name is Emma Raiha Frost. 

I am 16 years old. I have white-blonde hair and pale cream skin, but suprisingly dark eyes for one so fair. These I inherit from my mother, whose father was Japanese. I am neither tall nor short. I am slender, but not to the point of what you would call "skinny," for my body is curvaceous and does not look like the body of the average 16-year old. 

I made a decision a while ago. I decided to be rich, powerful and cold. I do not know at which point I made this decision, but I suspect I made it when I was very young, even before I began hearing voices in my head and my parents abandoned me in a mental hospital to be abused by the doctors and orderlies alike. 

I've always had a certain power of people, you see. A power that may or may not be due to my ability to see into other people's minds. I am not bragging when I say that I am highly intelligent and exceptionally beautiful. People have told me so all my life, and they were not just saying it to be kind. Because they were not kind. Not even my parents. The voices told me so, and the voices have never lied to me. None of my teachers or family members cared enough to truly know me or to notice the pain and anguish I felt at hearing all their thoughts that I could not keep out of my head. They ignored it up until the point when they saw that their perfect little snow-white princess was broken beyond repair, then they threw me away. Not even the voices or my powers of persuasion could save me then. 

But I escaped the prison that they cast me into. One night there was a lightning storm, and an orderly crept into my room. Crept into my bed and raped me, like so many nights before. I did not scream. I had long since learned that it did no good to scream or cry. To do so would only increase his satisfaction. I lay there cold as he tore into me, my body still but my mind raging until, for some reason I do not remember, I mentally articulated and issued a single command. 

_Stop_, it said. 

And suprisingly enough, he did. The orderly lay there as if frozen, still inside me. I lay there for a moment, then I pushed him off of me. 

_Lie still_, I said, only not with my mouth. 

He did. He lay there on the bed without moving, not even blinking. He did not even appear to be breathing. 

I checked to make sure he was still alive. Not because I cared about his life in the slightest, mind you, but because he was integral to the plan that was forming in my head at lightning speed. I got dressed, my mind racing so fast that I forgot to go the bathroom as I always did to avoid infection after the orderly's nightly visits. I packed anything thing of value that I had and stuffed it in a small black bag. I checked the orderly's pockets too but found only a crumpled pack of cigarettes. 

Of course I knew how to get out of facility, which was known at that time as White Pines. I had spent countless hours probing the minds of my caretakers for every detail of my prison, planning my escape route. Of course, the locked-door policy and the fact that I was unaware of my ability to project my own thoughts into other people's minds and control them prevented me from carrying out my careful preparations. 

I looked down at the hunched figure of my rapist. I knew he had a wife and a 7-year-old daughter. I knew that his family ate meatloaf every Thursday night and that he liked to strangle cats when he was young. I knew every detail of his pathetic life and I knew that he had a weak mind, especially when it came to little girls. I knew I had to be careful, I could not let my terrible anger cloud my thoughts. My mental commands had to be precise, clear and strong. 

_Get off the bed. Stand up._ Two commands in one. I stepped back, afraid for a moment that my control over him would break. But he obeyed, quickly and silently. 

_Walk to the door. Open it. Walk left down the hall to the exit._ Three commands. By this time I felt a slight ache in my right temple but I ignored it as I instructed the orderly to retrieve his keys, unlock the right doors, shield me from the other orderlies with his massive frame and carry me outside. Having him carry me was necessary because by the time I had issued seven commands, my headache had grown so that I had trouble standing. 

It was not raining despite the lightning storm. There had not been much rain that summer and the grass was so dry that it crackled under my feet, and despite my pounding headache I smiled for the first time in seven months. 

What happened afterward I cannot say. Only that with the last of my strength I sent the man back inside the facility so that he would not be missed by the other orderlies. I was so weakened by that time that I could no longer keep my eyes open, much less carry out my careful plan. My mind felt like it was on fire as I crawled a short distance into the woods surrounding the facility. I got as far the shallow brook that divided the forest. I lay down next to it and thought I was going to die. 

I woke to the sound of sirens. I do not know how much time had passed since I had lost consciousness. My head, though aching, no longer felt that it was going to--for lack of a better word--explode. I knew then I was going to live, and I immediately became aware of the acrid smell that filled the air and the distant shouts of men at work. I let my mind drift over the commotion in the area and I knew. 

The White Pines hospital was on fire. Most of it had already burned to the ground, aided by the dry land of a summer without rain. 

By now you must have guessed at the plan that formed in my head as soon as I learned I could control people's minds. I did not believe I could carry it out without strong mental commands. But, as I said before, the orderly had a weak mind. Most people do. Planting a suggestion in the right place is often all that needs to be done. 

Confident in my power, then, I emerged from the forest. I took a car from a plainclothes police officer, telling him and anyone else who noticed my presence to look the other way and forget me. I drove to the city and left the car unlocked in an alley somewhere. I stole some money and stayed in a cheap motel. I knew I could never go home again. Let my parents think I had died in the fire. I was no longer Emma Frost, no longer an average human being, but something greater. 

_Mutant_. Such an ugly word. One who is born with or manifests powers that distinguishes them from ordinary Homo sapiens due to a genetic twist of fate known as the X-gene. This I learned from a man called Professor Charles Xavier. He had been looking for me ever since I had escaped from White Pines. 

At first, I thought the good Professor had been sent by the government. Telepathy is not a new idea of course, as many agencies have been known to run covert tests and experiments. But even after he assured me that he was a private educator unaffiliated with the state, I did not trust him. I could not read his mind, though I detected a hint of frustration at his inability to read mine. I did not accept his offer to enroll me at the Xavier Institute, nor did I reject it outright. I left him with no choice but to leave, telling him that I would contact him if I changed my mind. 

After he left I immediately left the motel and with the little money I had left I moved into a tiny apartment downtown. Then I shoplifted a few designer outfits at the most expensive stores on Fifth Avenue and forged invitations to the most exclusive parties in New York, where I eavesdropped on the thoughts of some of the richest men in the world. I had to work quickly. The Professor, well-mannered as he was, seemed determined to enroll me in his school. 

Two days later, I learned why. I was approached by a figure in a long black cloak and helmet, a man who revealed himself only as "Magneto" or some such ridiculous moniker. This apparition I found to be no more sinister than the patronizing gentility of Xavier. For some reason, I could not read "Magneto's" mind either, though I doubt he was a telepath. Apparently, he and Xavier were once best friends, but they disagreed on a fundamental level about the nature of mutants and our place in this world. Xavier believes that mutants are essentially no different from human beings, that the X-gene is simply a genetic aberration, and that we must learn to control our powers to the point where we may fit into normal human society unnoticed. Magneto believes that we are not simply _mutants_, but the next step in evolution, _homo sapien superior_, and the battle for survival among the species is inevitable once our existence is revealed. 

Personally, I lean towards Magneto's belief over Xavier's, but I care nothing for either of their ideology. I have no love for humanity but I am not willing to wage a fullscale war against it. Their efforts to recruit me I will simply use to my advantage. There is much I can learn from both, if I am careful. 

Now, wth the money I have stolen and the inside information I have gathered, I can finally begin to build my own wealth and base of power. I have already begun training myself to be what I must become. I speak in soft, cool tones and have impeccable manners. If you were to look at me you would think I was an angel, for I _am_ a very good girl. I do not drink. I do not smoke. I do not swear. I do not do anything that might compromise myself or upset my self-control. 

I am as pure as the first snowfall of winter. None can touch me. I might as well be made of ice. 

I am Emma Frost, I am a mutant, and I will do everything I can to hone and increase my power. I will never be helpless again. 

_To Be Continued..._

**Well, there you have it. I've altered a little of Emma's history of course, but quite a bit of it is canon. I also brought up something that for some odd reason everyone overlooks. The conflict between Xavier and Magneto is the basic driving force behind the X-Universe. WHY they disagree and what for is never fully examined and brought to light, just that Xavier is good and Mags is bad. Evolution is cool because it has to deal with this disagreement more than the movie or even the comics. Hmm...this is all kind of weird and intellectual, isn't it?^^ 'Scuse me while I go watch some TV...**


End file.
